Between the four of them the boys occupied Nathan for half an hour, giving a long-winded account of where they’d been, who they’d talked to, and how much money each of them was missing. The stage came and went in the meantime. When Nathan had written down all the details and promised to ask around to see if anyone else had been robbed, the boys thanked him and left.
It wasn’t until the next morning that he found out Lena was gone.
CHAPTER 20
When she and Trey got home from the Grier place, Beth remembered that she still hadn’t gone through the mail she’d picked up in town yesterday. There was a letter from her friend Isobel James in New York. She opened it and was still sitting at the table, stunned, when Trey came in ten minutes later.
He took one look at her and crossed the room in two long strides. “Beth, what’s the matter?”
She handed him the letter. “Read it.”
Dear Beth,
I suppose it will be close to your birthday when you get this. I’m enclosing a little gift for you, a check for the sale of Meadow at Sunset.
The buyer was Vance Hickstead, the man I mentioned in my last letter. You really should meet him, Beth. He’s very impressed with your work and he has a lot of the right connections here in New York. If you’re serious about selling your art, he is a very valuable man to know.
A friend of Mr. Hickstead’s has a private gallery, small but highly rated. They’re starting to spring up in the city now. I’m sure we could arrange a showing if you could be here to attend. In fact, Mr. Hickstead suggested it. I read in the Times that the rail line to Denver has just been completed, so you’ve really no excuse. You aren’t going to get any further as an artist without meeting people like Mr. Hickstead, and he’ll lose interest if he doesn’t think your work will appreciate in value.
Besides, I’m selfish. I like to bask in reflected glory without having to work for it myself. Wire me and let me know your plans as soon as you can. It’s important. Walter sends his regards.
As ever,
Isobel
P.S. I haven’t told anyone E.M. Underhill is a woman. They haven’t asked.
“Congratulations.” The word carried no feeling. Trey looked as shocked as Beth felt. He laid the letter on the table.
She folded it neatly and put it back in its envelope. “A hundred dollars. I don’t know what to think. I’ve been dreaming for years that something like this might happen someday.”
Trey took a couple of steps back and leaned against the counter. Only a couple of steps, but to Beth he seemed as distant as he had the day they met. “With your talent, it was only a matter of time. I’m just sorry I’ve made it harder for you.”
Tears of disappointment sprang to Beth’s eyes. She’d hoped that if something like this happened, Trey would be happy for her, but he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “What do you mean?”
“I know you meant it when you told me you loved me, Beth. I know leaving won’t be easy. I meant it when I said I loved you, too. I’d never forgive myself if I held you back now. Go to New York and knock them dead.”
Beth’s disappointment turned to an icy lump of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach. “Trey, I’m not sure I understand you. Are you telling me to go to New York… permanently?”
He gave her a forlorn smile. “It’s like Isobel says, isn’t it? You can’t get anywhere with your art without knowing the people who matter, and the people who matter aren’t in Colorado. You can’t live at both ends of the country.”
Beth forced down her temper. After all, New York must seem like another world to Trey. His only visit there had been to see his father and sister off to England. He’d never lived in a city and couldn’t have any idea of the politics of the art world. “What makes you think I’d have to live at both ends of the country? If anything comes of this, I may have to make a couple of trips east every year – short trips. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. This could mean a lot to us, Trey. We could put something away for our children–”
“And how would I manage the children and this place while you’re away for a month at a time? It just wouldn’t work.”
The tears in Beth’s eyes started spilling down her cheeks. After all was said and done, Trey’s love didn’t extend to compromise, to finding a solution. It had to be his way. Thank heaven she hadn’t let her feelings for him overcome common sense. “So, you want me to choose. Trey, as much as I love you, I can’t give up my work for you. I couldn’t give it up for anyone. I’ll ride into town this afternoon and wire Isobel.”
“I think that’s smart.” Trey turned on his heel and walked out.
A few minutes later, sitting at the table with her head in her hands, Beth heard Cloud leave the yard. She got up, washed her face, and went out to saddle Chance. She needed to talk to Maddy.
Beth found her sitting on her front step, peeling carrots.
Maddy’s welcoming smile faded when she got a look at her visitor’s face. “It’s plain you haven’t got good news.”
Beth plopped down beside her, picked up a carrot, and snapped it in two. She wasn’t going to start crying again… but a tear ran down the bridge of her nose. Then another. She wiped them away and threw the carrot in Maddy’s pot. “To put it in a nutshell, I’m going to New York for a while. Maybe for good.”
Maddy sighed and put an arm around her. “Tell me what happened.”
Beth told her about Isobel’s letter. “This could be important for Trey and me, Maddy. Just last night, he told me that he loves me and wants me to stay. Today, he’s pushing me to go. If I thought he was just being jealous or selfish, I’d tell him so, but the truth is he still doesn’t trust me.”
“Trust takes time, and that’s something you and Trey haven’t given yourselves much of.” Maddy reached for another carrot. “He doesn’t know the world you came from, and now you’re going back there. He’s afraid of losing you.”
Beth clasped her arms around her knees. “I know. He’s lost a lot of people he cared for – his mother, good friends. Even his father and sister, in a way. They’re so far away. Maybe I should wait, just stay here and keep painting until next spring, then go to New York with a stock of pieces to sell.”
“Do you think leaving would be any easier then, for either of you?”
“I don’t know.”
Maddy shook her head. “Neither do I, Beth. I only know that if you and Trey are meant to be together, you going to New York – now or later – won’t change that. But I think not going might.”
Beth pictured Trey’s face as it looked in his old photograph, the one taken before the war. A boy’s face. His world had come crashing down around him before he’d had time to grow up, and she knew now that what had happened with Justin had nearly shattered him. She sensed it in the slow, cautious way Trey had come out of himself over the last few weeks with her, as if a long, hard winter had finally given way to spring.
Trey had pushed himself to the breaking point trying to replace the home he’d lost, and sought out people who had the stability he missed. Now he thought he’d found that stability with Beth, only to have it taken away again. How could she do it?
If you don’t, you’ll drift apart. If she didn’t go to New York now, Trey would never really learn to trust her. She could make all the promises she wanted, but words were only words to him. No matter what success she found selling her paintings through Isobel, he’d always wonder if he’d compromised her career. But if she went, would he give in to his fear of losing her and turn away from her for good?
* * *
Trey arrived home just before midnight. He put Cloud in the corral, stepped quietly into the lightless cabin, and stood there in the dark, listening to the soft sound of Beth’s breathing coming from the loft.
It didn’t sound as if she was asleep. He wanted to climb up there, gather her in his arms, and hold on for dear life, but he couldn’t. If he had to let her go, why make it more difficult for both of them?
&n
bsp; He’d promised himself weeks ago that if Beth left, she wouldn’t take his heart with her, and he intended to keep that promise – no matter how much it hurt. Trey owed himself that, and he knew it was the only way Beth would go forward and take what the future offered her.
He undressed, stretched out on his bunk, and closed his eyes. He’d made sure he exhausted himself before heading home, but sleep evaded him. He saw himself sitting beside his mother’s sickbed, knowing she wasn’t going to get well. Standing on a pier in New York, watching a ship disappear over the horizon, carrying his remaining family. Kneeling in the road that night with Justin, seeing the light of recognition in his eyes fade to emptiness. Trey’s mind told him this situation with Beth was different, but his heart wasn’t listening.
His feelings weren’t the issue, though. Beth couldn’t build her career from Wallace Flats, and he had no right to ruin her chances of success.
When the first light showed through the east-facing front window, Trey got up, pulled on his clothes, and made a pot of coffee. Beth climbed down from the loft, still in her nightgown. The heartbroken look on her face nearly cracked Trey’s resolve. “Did you wire Isobel yesterday?”
“Yes, I did. I’m going to catch the stage on Thursday. Trey–”
If she said any more, he’d crumble. It couldn’t hurt like this for long. “It’s for the best, Beth. You’ll see that soon.” He headed for the barn before she could see the mist in his eyes.
* * *
On Thursday, they got to town with half an hour to spare and waited for the stage on the sun-baked street. To Beth, the whole scene seemed as unreal as their wedding. She and Trey had hardly spoken since Isobel’s letter had arrived. With each passing day, the gulf between them widened.
If he loved her, why couldn’t he tell her about his fears like he’d told her about Justin? Every time she tried to get him to talk to her, he left. For hours.
The stage arrived. Even now, when she was leaving, he had nothing to say. When the driver loaded Beth’s luggage onto the top of the stage she turned into Trey’s arms, but he put his hands on her shoulders and held her off. “Wire me when you arrive, Beth.”
“Of course I will.”
“Good luck.”
That was all. Trey gave Beth a gentle push towards the stage, then walked away. Hurting too much to cry, she boarded.
If that was as much as he cared, she wasn’t losing anything. Better to focus on what she’d gained. Whatever happened now, Beth could never go back to her old life or accept the kind of marriage she would likely have had, if not for Trey. She knew now how much she could love. Her time in Wallace Flats hadn’t been wasted. Now, the next chapter of her life was up to her.
She spent the night in Denver with Graham and Julia. To Beth’s immense relief, they seemed to have decided that since she’d come to her senses, nothing need be said about her foolhardy marriage. They didn’t mention Trey at all. The next morning Beth was on her way over the new railroad line to Kansas City. A week later, she stood searching the crowd in New York’s brand-new Grand Central Terminal for Isobel’s face. It didn’t take long to find her. Physically, she hadn’t changed as much in the last three years as Beth had in the few weeks she’d been in Wallace Flats. Isobel had the kind of willowy figure that didn’t lose its elegance with time, and her blond hair and fair complexion looked as flawless as ever.
Isobel and Beth had known each other all their lives, and had seen each other regularly until Isobel married the son of a wealthy New York family. Beth had seen her last on the day she became Isobel James. She had a two-year-old son now.
Beth walked up behind Isobel and tapped her shoulder. She whirled around and they enveloped each other in a hug.
“Beth, you’re really here! I’ve been having visions of having to explain to everyone I’ve told about you that you’d been waylaid by thieves or Indians. Oh, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Isobel. How are Walter and Michael?”
“Thriving. You must be exhausted. I’ll take you right home. Where are your baggage checks?”
Outside, Isobel handed the slips to her cab driver. He retrieved Beth’s luggage while she and Isobel settled themselves in the cab. As they pulled away from the station, Beth watched the traffic a little nervously. She’d forgotten what it was like to drive on busy city streets.
“I still can’t believe you married out west,” Isobel said when they’d exhausted their do-you-remembers. “Why didn’t your husband come with you?”
Beth sat back and steeled herself for the inevitable questions about Trey. “He couldn’t. He has a homestead to look after.”
“Yes, you mentioned the farm in your letters. I’m not surprised that you enjoy it.” With an unconscious, characteristic gesture, Isobel smoothed her skirts. “You always did like riding. But surely the help could handle things for a short time.”
“I’m the only help Trey’s got,” Beth told her with a wry smile, “except for his partner with the cattle. Try and picture me as a farmer’s wife, Isobel.”
Beth almost giggled at Isobel’s astonishment. It took her a few seconds to find her voice. “You’re serious. You’ve actually been working on the place.”
“Yes. And as strange as it might seem, I’ve come to enjoy it.”
“Why?”
Beth didn’t mind her friend’s blank stare. She’d expected Isobel to ask her outright if she’d lost her reason. “Because it’s real. Everything I do matters.”
A tolerant look spread across Isobel’s face. She hadn’t lost her cynicism. “And it didn’t before?”
“Not in the same way.”
“I see.” Isobel paused, looked into Beth’s eyes. “Beth, I believe you’re in love.”
The truth might as well be told now. “I am, but things aren’t going too well, Isobel. Trey was very upset about my coming here. He doesn’t want me to give up my painting, and I can’t convince him that I can stay with him without doing that. And our marriage is still a marriage in name only. Graham told me when I went to Wallace Flats that I was making a fool of myself, and I’m not sure anymore that he was wrong. I might not be going back to Colorado.”
Isobel put an arm around her. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy, but I don’t think you’re a fool. I can imagine what living with Graham and Julia was like for you. At least there’s nothing holding you to this man.”
“Nothing but feelings.”
Isobel gave Beth a bracing little shake. “Beth, you have a responsibility to yourself. You don’t have the right to waste the talent you were given. I’m going to do everything I can to help you for as long as you need it. Now, try to put your worries aside. I’m going to convince you to go to the Adirondacks with me for a holiday. Walter’s family has a place up there.” Isobel paused to close the carriage window against the dust. “He doesn’t care for it himself. He prefers the city even in the heat, but I like to spend as much of the summer there as I can. You’d love the place.”
“I’m sure I would, but–”
“Now, don’t say no right away.” Isobel grinned as they turned off Fifth Avenue. “You know I’ve always been a bad influence on you, Beth. We’re almost home. Walter’s parents bought the house for us as a wedding gift when we came back from our honeymoon. It took us a year to get it done up to our taste, but I’ll admit I’m proud of it.”
Isobel’s home was a four-story brownstone three blocks away from the busy avenue, far enough to dim the traffic noise but not far enough to muffle it completely. Similar houses lined the street. The neighborhood exhaled an atmosphere of money and culture. Beth hadn’t expected it to feel as foreign as it did. As they climbed the front steps, she tried to pull her thoughts back into the patterns she remembered.
Isobel had become interested in art through her mother, an amateur sculptor and collector as well as a financial supporter of several galleries in Philadelphia. Walter James indulged Isobel’s interest, and many of their friends were like-minded. Isob
el had arranged a dinner party for the following evening to introduce E.M. Underhill to the circle, which included Vance Hickstead.
Butterflies swarmed in Beth’s stomach at the thought. She’d fallen out of touch with the art world since moving to Denver. She didn’t know whose work was fashionable and current any more. It would be very easy to make a fool of herself tomorrow night.
Later, Beth squeezed into one of the dresses she’d picked up at Graham’s. It was a year behind the style, but that couldn’t be helped. She comforted herself with the thought that it would look a lot more out of place in Wallace Flats than it did here. She found she was out of practice in doing her hair the way she wanted it, but with some fussing she got it done and went down to dinner.
Beth had always enjoyed a late dinner. Isobel’s dining room was decorated in perfect taste, with wallpaper in a muted stripe and a Sheraton table and sideboard gleaming in the light from a beautiful chandelier. There were only Beth, Isobel and Walter at the table.
Beth had only met Isobel’s husband twice before, but he greeted her with easy charm. Superficially he reminded her of Trey, with dark hair and eyes and a similar build, but he didn’t have the dark complexion Trey had inherited from his Cajun mother, and Walter’s relaxed grace contrasted with Trey’s restless energy.
“I haven’t forgotten the prettiest bridesmaid in our wedding party. Welcome.”
Beth shook Walter’s hand. Why did his cordiality leave her cold? “Thank you. It doesn’t seem possible that it’s been three years. I can’t wait to meet your little boy.”
Isobel smiled. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. He is a handful, but we flatter ourselves that we aren’t among those parents who bore others with their children. As charming as we think him, the nurse takes care to remind us that Michael is a perfectly ordinary child, and I’m sure she’s right.” She sipped her wine and adjusted her napkin in her lap. “The girl’s a treasure. We were so lucky to find her. You wouldn’t know there was a baby in the house most of the time.”
To Capture the Sky (Choices of the Heart, book 2) Page 19